The Five Stages of Quarantine with Two Small Children

At this point, we’ve quarantined so often based on “direct contact” that I’ve lost track.  Has it been five times?  Six? Eleven?  Lina attends therapy with a number of other kids, plus staff, and every few months someone has turned up positive for Covid.  Thankfully, no one has become seriously ill, but we’ve had to spend days upon days at home, lacking Lina’s crucial support system and gradually going stark raving mad.

On December 21, we again received word that Lina would have to stay home based on direct contact with a positive Covid case.  On December 22, we took her for a required PCR test.  On December 24 (or what is known colloquially as “Christmas Eve”), we learned she was positive.  The only good thing I can say about the ensuing two weeks is that we had not planned to travel and had not invited anyone else to join us for Christmas.  The original reasons behind our seclusion were twofold: (1) airline travel is not possible based on Lina’s aversion to wearing a mask, and (2) we wanted to relax and enjoy Christmas without the pressures of hosting.

Instead, we got to enjoy Christmas while tense and weary.

I’ll put a kibosh on any false suspense by informing you now that Lina showed no symptoms, and the rest of us remained Covid-free.  The kids are too young to get the vaccine, but Jack escaped nonetheless (although he once again had the suffer the indignity of a q-tip up his nose), and Ryan and I are vaccinated and generally healthy.  For that, I am grateful.

For the continued, relentless quarantines…I am not.  Each time, the quarantine seems to follow a familiar pattern with a falsely positive initial outlook, traversing steeply downhill from there.

There are five stages of quarantine that I have identified.

#1: Aggressive Optimism

This is fine!  We’ll make a color-coded schedule, designating various times for music, art, outdoor play, and creative movement.  We don’t need no stinking screen time.  We don’t need our usual therapists or childcare.  WE GOT THIS!

#2: Frustration

What do you MEAN you don’t want to make-your-own-playdough?  Why do you say “all done” the second I try to introduce a ~fun~ shaving cream activity?  And can mommy have ONE SECOND ALONE TO PEE??

#3: Bargaining

If you poop in the potty instead of your pants, I’ll give you an M&M.  Fine, two M&Ms.  Fine, as many M&Ms as you want.  Fine, a million dollars, I’ll rob a bank, whatever, just GET THE POOP IN THE POTTY.

#4: Despair

I can’t do this.  Childcare workers and therapists are angels on earth.  I am not an angel.  AND WHY THE HECK IS THERE SO MUCH POOP?!

#5: Resignation

I’m tired.  I have work deadlines.  Hey kids, want to watch a movie and eat corn chips directly out of the bag?

For those who have also suffered the effects of Covid—be it the virus or the quarantine or the lack of support system you have every right to expect—I’m sorry.  I hope you’re doing all right.

In spite of my whinging, let me assure you that we survived, albeit did not thrive.  I’m sure there are more quarantines in our future.  Maybe by categorizing our experience, we can conquer it.

Probably not.

Until next time, Covid!

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